Altea Coffee
by RebelzHeart
Summary: A coffee shop AU that's not a romance.


The coffee shop is a fresh, new place with _Altea_ carefully painted on the window in loving rose-gold. A red-and-white peppermint striped shade hangs over the edge of the door and when Shiro pushes it open, a little golden bell jingles his welcome.

"Hey, hot stuff," The barista winks at him, forward and at ease as he leans over the counter, raising two eyebrows as he tilts his head to the side and asks, "Want something cool to bring down the temperature?"

Shiro smiles awkwardly as the homey feeling dissipates, "Um, no thank you," He glances at the nametag, which has in bold print, _Lance_. "I'd just like something to eat."

"That's A-okay," Lance leans back, drumming long, thin fingers on the edge of the counter as he points at the glass display and says, "Knock yourself out. I recommend everything."

Shiro laughs a bit at that, "Nothing special?"

"Everything here's fantastic," Lance props his elbows on the counter, "And I'm not just saying that because I'm working here. I work at three other places and trust me, none of them come up to this place's _knees_ in terms of quality."

"Sounds wonderful," Shiro smiles a bit, "Are you the only one here?"

"Nah," Lance tilts his head to indicate someone in the back, "Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man is in the back, making a new batch of donuts. If you're willing to wait five minutes, you can get them fresh from the oven."

"Tempting," Shiro hooks two thumbs in his pockets, "Can I have a croissant?"

"Of course," Lance moves with a fluid type of ease as he pulls out a croissant and slips it into a bag, "$1.99, please."

"Cheap," Shiro raises an eyebrow.

Lance shoots Shiro a cocky grin, "Quality, too. You'll love it."

"I don't doubt it," Shiro hands over the money and glances at the bright red booths lining the counter, "What will you do while I eat?"

Lance wiggles his eyebrows, "Why do you want to know?"

Shiro might be missing something here because the question sounds like Lance is suspicious of Shiro or something but the tone is friendly with an edge of something he only vaguely remembers. (Is he flirting? No, he couldn't be.) "Just hoping for some conversation," he admits, ducking his head down.

Okay, fine, that was a _bit_ desperate.

Lance blinks again, like he wasn't expecting that answer, and then he offers Shiro a smile that's as soft as butter, "Yeah, alright," he pulls out a dishcloth, "I was supposed to wipe the counter before my shift ends but I've only got ten minutes before Allura comes in anyway."

"Much obliged," Shiro says quietly.

He means it.

Lance must be able to tell because he casts Shiro a curious look but he says nothing of it. "So, what do you want to chat about? We can't exactly spend all this time talking about your stunning good looks."

Shiro snorts a bit at that, "No, we really can't."

Lance shakes his head a bit, as though Shiro is a curiosity, and glances at Shiro's gloved hand, "So, you have an injury or something?"

"You could say that," Shiro says a bit wryly, and then pulls off the glove. His elbow bends and he waves clumsily at Lance, who stares at the prosthetic with that same confused face that people tend to look at it with, as though he's trying to figure out a balance between pity and shock and trying not to act like it. "Pretty big one, eh?"

Instead of any of the questions that Shiro expects, Lance looks scandalized as he demands, "Who _designed_ that?"

Shiro blinks, "I was in the army for a while and..."

"Ah, of course," Lance purses his lips together and shakes his head with a sigh, "I can get you in touch with some people who will make it work like a charm."

Okay.

That was _really_ not the answer that he was expecting.

"Oh, it's, um..."

"Sorry, that was too forward of me, wasn't it?" Lance narrows his eyes despite the apology, something calculating in his eyes before he offers Shiro a wide grin and says, "Well, it's fine if you like your arm as it is. I'm just used to having two good arms, I forget that not everybody likes everything the same way that I do."

"Oh, no..." Shiro's words spill out of his lips in fumbles, "I would, I mean, I just don't really want to sit through a bunch of tests..."

"Of course not," Lance smiles at him, "You came here to enjoy a croissant and here I am trying to interfere with your life."

He doesn't say sorry.

Shiro thinks that he's thankful for that.

"Enough about this old thing," he says hastily as he slips the glove back over, Lance's eyes lingering on it for a bit too long, though Shiro ignores that, "What do you enjoy talking about?"

"Oh, me?" Lance shrugs and laughs self-depreciatingly, "Nothing much. I'm not nearly so interesting."

"Oh, don't be like that," Shiro raises an eyebrow, "You're in college?"

"High school."

"High school, then," Shiro dips his head into a nod, "Any subjects that you like?"

Lance fiddles with his cloth for a moment, before he seems to _burst_ and says, "Okay, so, I know that this isn't really a high school course, but space advancement is _incredibly_ amazing. NASA recently put up this concept art for young people who are interested with conceptual art about planets detected through means other than what we can see in the near vicinity and it's _fascinating_ , but it's not nearly so fascinating as the nearest discovery about Mars that could revolutionize..."

He babbles on a bit before he seems to realize what he's doing, despite the fact that he's halfway through an explanation about the first ever rocket prototype and how it was derived from previous technology then moves onward to the mistakes of the past and how _clever_ it was the modern scientists worked past it.

"Ah, sorry," he rubs his cheek, "That's a bit dull, isn't it?"

"No, not at all!" Shiro says excitedly, "I was in the airforce for the military because I thought it would get me in a program to become an astronaut, actually! I initially joined the military because they would pay for post-secondary, you see, and Chris Hadfield wrote in his book about it!"

"Really?" A light flickers in Lance's eyes, "Okay, isn't it so cool that..."

They babble on for longer, and at some point Allura comes in and takes over, chastising Lance for talking to a customer when he's supposed to be working while Shiro apologizes and she sighs something along the lines of, _no, I'm sorry for Lance, he tends to be a bit overly social_ and Lance seems to remember himself as he puts on an odd smile and says _I don't need to talk to anyone but you, Princess_ and she rolls her eyes at him.

It's very sweet, and Lance goes off shift and he and Shiro both get the new donuts hot from the oven (Lance with his discount, Shiro has money to spare) and they talk some more, Lance attentively listening as Shiro explains something that he didn't quite understand about one of NASA's many works.

It's fun, and when Shiro leaves the coffee shop, he thinks, _this place really is homey_. Somehow, he's fairly sure that he'll become a regular.

* * *

"You're late," Keith calls out when Shiro walks into their apartment, though he doesn't sound very annoyed. If anything, he's apathetic.

"Sorry," Shiro apologizes as he toes off his shoes, "I found a nice new coffee shop and started chatting with the barista. He was interested in engineering and piloting."

Keith dips his head in acknowledgement, "It's nice that you're making friends," he says, mimicking Shiro's words from when Keith told him about a group project a while back. (Keith had glared at Shiro and sighed, _they're jerks_ and they had left it at that.) It's his attempt at what he thinks kindness looks like.

"I'll take you there sometime," Shiro offers.

"I'm not much into coffee," Keith's declination.

"That's alright," Shiro's a bit surprised at his words, "They have good food."

It's not rare for Shiro to push Keith, and Keith usually shrugs it off. He doesn't push back or agrees, just ignores it until the problem goes away. (Or what he _thinks_ is the problem.) But this seems small, just a coffee shop, so Keith sighs, "Okay. You didn't eat dinner there, did you?"

Shiro shakes his head, "And miss your cooking?"

Keith laughs a bit at that, and Shiro shakes his head. "I got us pizza pockets."

"Truly fine cuisine," Shiro grins, "Have fun at school today?"

Keith groans loudly, "There's this really jerk teacher who kept comparing me to this other guy? And then the teacher kept saying I was better or whatever so this guy got mad at _me_ and I got mad at _him_... I know, I know, Shiro, I won't do it again, promise... _yes_ , I will keep my promise, stop giving me that look, it was _one time_..."

"One time that got you kicked out of your _private school_ ," Shiro says softly, not wanting to drag up old wounds but not wanting Keith to forget either.

"It was a stupid school anyway!" Keith throws his hands in the air, "Anyway, he's a jerk and the teacher's a jerk and everyone's a jerk except his friend who made him apologize to me."

"So he apologized," Shiro tilts his head to the side.

"I apologized, too," Keith grounds out, "But we're not friends, okay?"

"Okay," Shiro sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "I'll stop pushing."

"Thanks," Keith lifts a shoulder and turns to the fridge, "Dinner?"

"Okay," Shiro murmurs.

Keith has been on edge since Shiro came back. He's not sure how much he likes it. He wants to say something, but what is he supposed to say? He's barely even sure if his memories of Keith are real or something from a dream.

"Okay," Keith softens, a bit less defensive now that he knows Shiro won't push. "You feel up for movie night?"

"Always," Shiro laughs and the air un-tenses.

Suddenly, everything is right again.

(Or as right as it can be.)


End file.
